


So Pretty In Purple Lights

by httpsawesome



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, It's still the 1940's, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve and Sam are bartenders in a drag bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:31:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httpsawesome/pseuds/httpsawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This one's a dreamboat. He's got a beautiful head of brown hair that he's obviously styled for a long time before coming here. He has half a mind to protect him from every lit match and candle, because with the amount of pomade in there he would set the whole place on fire. The look works on his so well. Along with his lean body and the fact he's only a head taller than him without heels, he's borderline perfect. Nobody likes needing a ladder to kiss someone. </p><p>Sam knows that he's exactly Steve's type. Thank you Sam. </p><p> </p><p>Or, Steve is working on the night that Bucky decides to break out of his shell, and everyone is lucky for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Pretty In Purple Lights

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drafts for MONTHS, and it's also my very first time writing porn. There's your warning.

Most of his nights are filled with hazy purple lights, smoky bars where they stopped charging him for drinks a long while ago, and the constant subconscious reminder to be on your toes. Some guys come in and they could be like you and looking for a good time. Some guys come in with an ulterior motive and they want to catch someone doing something that could get them in trouble with the wrong people. Sometimes they're cops in disguise. Sometimes they're just assholes that want their next victim. 

 

Sam is the best at spotting any possible troublemaker. Half the times it's before they buy a drink. He just has to see them once and he's immediately on alert. Grabbing the attention of the closest person working with him, which is usually Steve, they wordlessly watch the guy as long as it takes. It never takes that long before they start asking the wrong questions, pushing themselves into boundaries, being too aggressive. They avoided the worst situations because of Sam's talent. 

 

When Sam gave him a look after serving a man at the bar, he thought that it was going to be one of those nights. Except . . .

 

This one's a dreamboat. He's got a beautiful head of brown hair that he's obviously styled for a long time before coming here. He has half a mind to protect him from every lit match and candle, because with the amount of pomade in there he would set the whole place on fire. The look works on his so  _well._ Along with his lean body and the fact he's only a head taller than him without heels, he's borderline perfect. Nobody likes needing a ladder to kiss someone. 

Sam knows that he's exactly Steve's type.  _Thank you Sam._  


Steve rolled up so he could replace Sam in front of him. Now that he's up close and personal with him, he can get a really good look at everything about him. If he spent a long time on his hair like Steve suspects, he must have dressed with the same consideration and care. Not a single wrinkle or button out of place, and it all fits like a glove. 

 

The only thing that doesn't fit is his body language. He's got his arms firmly by his side, only moving to bring the glass of water to his mouth. He isn't darting his eyes around like he's suspicious, no, he's just nervous. Combing with how young he looks, Steve assumes that he's just a college boy that decided today is the day that he first steps first into Steve's world. 

 

"If you want something stronger," Steve starts chatting politely "You just have to ask."

 

The guy's pale blue eyes dart to him and he inhales too sharply, too quickly, and starts choking on his water. Steve watches as a blush creeps up on the guy's cheeks as he fetches a towel. 

 

"Maybe that's strong enough and I should stop bothering you." He gives him the towel and watches him frantically try to make himself presentable again. 

 

"Oh no, you're no bother." He finally reaches Steve's eyes again, and looks just shrugs sheepishly. It's simply the most endearing thing Steve has ever seen in his entire life. "I was just - caught off guard. A bit."

 

"Was it my distracting good looks or something else?" Steve smirked when college boy blushed again, even harder this time. Though he was pleasantly surprised when he was answered with "It definitely wasn't something else." 

 

Steve smirked playfully and decided to tease him, just a little. "Do they teach you how to flirt at school, college boy? I think you should get your money back."

 

College boy threw his hands up slightly, as if he went on a defensive. "Come on, it wasn't that bad." He let his arm fall down, and Steve could tell by his smile that he was getting less uncomfortable. 

 

Whoever this guy is, he looks so out of place here among the glitter and people dressed more like Steve and his kitty pumps and red lipstick and short pixie cut. Looks nothing like Sam in his dark red corset piece with white lace, black stockings, and wonderfully done makeup that accentuates all of his great features. He would fit in better on the college campus, studying in the yard with all his friends that match him. 

 

But he looks so  _good_ here. Like he's waiting for his clothes to get messy, his hair to be ruined by someone's enthusiastic fingers, and his skin to be covered by a partner's lips. The partner. Any partner. Maybe by every person here at the bar. 

 

"How'd you guess about the college thing, anyhow?" He asked. "Was it that obvious?"

 

"A bit yeah." He casually placed his elbows on the sticky bar top and leaned slightly forward. "What do they call you, so I can stop referring to you as 'college boy' in my head?"

 

"James." He matched Steve's pose so they were even closer. James' breath smelt of mint. He must have prepared for everything when he got ready for tonight.

 

"This must really be your first time in a place like this." He replied. "It's not a safe idea to go around saying your real name."

 

"Oh," His shoulders slumped. "That makes sense." 

 

"We all make mistakes. Plus I'm very trustworthy."

 

After a minute, James added "My friends call me Bucky."

 

"My nickname around here is Sweetheart." Steve smirked back, creating the image of someone you wouldn't call a sweetheart.  Not someone who would impress your mother in her expensive pearls and high morals for her dear son. 

 

He snorted playfully. "Really? That's what you want me to call you?"

 

"That's what I want you to call me."

 

"Except I sound like I'm a drunk harassing you when I call you that." He scowled 

 

Steve smiled at Bucky. Part of him wants to say that he sounds like the naive college kid that he actually is, but the other part of him knows he that he thinks the same thing when it refers to anyone else. "Well, since I know your real name, and since you've been so adorable this whole night, I'll let you call me Steve." 

 

Bucky pouted and said "I'm not  _adorable._ " and Steve laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve ended up on his knees within the hour, shucking off Bucky's suspenders and push him against the wall the back room. The only thing around to see either of them are the surplus bottle of alcohol. No one to judge them except the bottles of whiskey and shot glasses. He could feel Bucky's hands tighten around his shoulders as he started undoing his pants, and he could hear him gasp when his breath ghosted over his cock.

 

"Impressive size for a college-boy." Steve quietly remarked with a smirk. Bucky was about to comment on that but all that came out was a choked-off gasp when Steve licked a hot stripe from the base to the tip. 

 

Steve's right hand kept a firm grip at the base and his left hand was left to keep Bucky steady as he covered his dick with hot, open-mouthed kisses. He was happily listening to his desperate whimpering until he suddenly felt hands touch his hair. "Don't mess up my wig." Steve said, almost snappishly. Bucky moved his hands away swiftly and placed them back on his shoulders, but when Steve raised his eyes up and looked at him, he looked genuinely guilty and sorry. Steve reasoned he was harsher then he needed to be, even if he did spend more than an hour placing all the pins in a way so his long blonde hair would stay on his head. He made up for it by finally sucking his cock into the back of his throat and holding it there for a few seconds. 

 

Bucky let out a broken whine, and his grip was so tight is fingertips were turning white. He sounded so beautiful in this moment. Steve gazes up from his eyelashes and as he takes a long look at him, he is even more beautiful than he sounds. With the hand that isn't holding Bucky's dick, he used to drag his own erect cock out from his panties and work himself over.

 

Apparently the obscene sounds of Steve's slurping, the white hot heat of his mouth, and the knowledge of that Steve is getting something out of this as well all mixed with his inexperience was too much at this point, and Bucky came with a scream his muffled with his fist. 

 

There was a stack of paper menus that listed all the drinks the bar sells. Steve used one of them to spit in. 

 

Wordlessly, Bucky dragged Steve back up to his feet. Somewhere during this whole ordeal, Steve kicked off his heels, so now he's eye level with Bucky's chest. It didn't matter to him at all so he dragged Steve up for a kiss. His hands joined Steve's and he came with both hands on him, probably barely missing making a stain on Bucky's nice shoes. 

 

He made Bucky leave first, telling him it's too late for him out now, in case he has classes in the morning. Bucky only left after being promised that they will see each other again. 

 

That was a promise Steve can get behind. 


End file.
